


we are too fragile just to guess

by DoubleL27



Series: Beyond Control [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxiety, Episode: s03e13 Grad Night, First Dates, Fluff, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleL27/pseuds/DoubleL27
Summary: “Is everybody here or are other people coming?” she asked, looking from David to him.Something unpleasant skittered down Patrick’s spine at the question, settling into his stomach with a queasy motion, instead of the light flutters from eariler.  He snapped his mouth shut, wondering when exactly it had dropped open. “Uhhh, I don’t know.  Is anyone else coming?” Patrick’s voice squeaked as he directed the question to David.When he had insisted on taking David out for his birthday he had assumed David would understand he had asked him out, like out-out.  They hadn’t mentioned other people and Patrick had been clear that he wanted to take him out.  At least, Patrick thought he had been clear.  What else did let me take you out for your birthday mean?ORA closer look at Patrick during the big date at Grad Night and his escape to the bathroom.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Beyond Control [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507769
Comments: 27
Kudos: 239





	we are too fragile just to guess

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my rewatch of Grad Night and Patrick noping out of the date briefly to go panic in the bathroom. I couldn’t get it out of my head as a moment of sheer anxiety that Stevie is on his date with him. 
> 
> Thanks to [bayanungbituon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayaningbituon/pseuds/bayaningbituon) for pointing out where dashes do and do not belong and catching my awkward phrasing. Any errors that remain are all mine. 
> 
> The title is from Fools by Lauren Aquilina.

The banter flowed easily across the table and Patrick could feel his nerves start to ease as David commented on the carefully curated eight page menu before them. Patrick couldn’t keep the smile from creeping onto his face. Diners continued the clinking of dishes and buzz of conversation around them but Patrick felt like they were in their own small bubble within the booth. The yellow leather creaked underneath him as Patrick shifted slightly.

“Agreed. Agreed,” Patrick returned, in the affected serious tone he had chosen for this initial conversation. “Dare we try the deep fried mozzarella stick platter?”

“Mmm.” David accepted the volley and returned with, “They do a lovely wine pairing with that, so...”

Patrick felt his lips curl up and he gave a soft laugh as David’s eyes dropped to the wide array of options written in 10 pt script font. Patrick’s stomach settled down to a mild fluttering as he watched David skim the menu. The majority of the day had been spent in a fog of excitement and terror that he had actually gotten up the nerve to ask David out to dinner, and for his birthday, no less. Now that they were here, Patrick was trying to figure out what to do with the reality of being out on a date with David. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been on plenty of dates before, but none of those people had been David.

Patrick was fairly certain he was gay, had always been gay, and that knowledge didn’t scare him as much as he had thought it might. Sitting across from David in this mediocre cafe was better than the dozens of other fancier dates he had taken perfectly nice women on. He had, on one of his many hikes, traced the threads of his attraction to other men that had been lying just under the surface. Still, none of those instances had ever swamped Patrick with emotion like being around David did.

The blue gift bag to his left held the receipt from their first sale during their semi-firm, but not hard, soft launch. He had reprinted it immediately from the till while David had been helping people from the long line of friends and family that had not been on the invite list and tucked it away for safekeeping. He had always meant to present it to David. Patrick had initially planned to do it on the first anniversary of opening Rose Apothecary, but what better present could Patrick give his business partner and massive crush for his birthday?

Honestly, there were probably several other options he could have gone with, but time had been short. David was definitely the kind of person who gave very specific lists, with items selected to the color level. When the idea of the receipt had popped into his head, 15 minutes after fumbling through making dinner plans, Patrick had decided to go with his gut.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

Patrick turned his head to see Stevie standing there beside the booth, looking at David. She had her messenger bag slung over her shoulder and looked like she had just come from the motel. He blinked, closed his menu and stared. Stevie had said she was late. His brain tried to process what the words meant as she kept talking.

“Is everybody here or are other people coming?” she asked, looking from David to him.

Something unpleasant skittered down Patrick’s spine at the question, settling into his stomach with a queasy motion, instead of the light flutters from earlier. He snapped his mouth shut, wondering when exactly it had dropped open. “Uhhh, I don’t know. Is anyone else coming?” Patrick’s voice squeaked as he directed the question to David.

When he had insisted on taking David out for his birthday he had assumed David would understand he had asked him out, like out-out. They hadn’t mentioned other people and Patrick had been clear that he wanted to take him out. At least, Patrick thought he had been clear. What else did let me take you out for your birthday mean?

“No. This is, um, this is it. In case you don’t know, I’m wildly popular,” David quipped in his self-deprecating way, his face contorting as he talked, ending in a small smile that moved closer to a cringe as he held it. “Some might even venture to call me beloved.”

“Eh, that’s a bit of a stretch,” Patrick managed to lob back, even though he didn’t feel particularly amused at the moment, and was rewarded with a stunning smile from David.

Except it didn’t really mean anything. Not really. Patrick had asked David out and David had invited Stevie to join them. Either David hadn’t realized it was a date, or he had and David didn’t actually want to be on a date with Patrick. Patrick wasn’t sure which was worse.

Patrick wasn’t going to completely drop the ball he hadn’t seen coming, though. He could save this without too much humiliation, Patrick thought. “Welcome, Stevie. I-I-I’m sorry if I had known you were coming I would have had them set three places but uh...”

Patrick let his voice trail off as he continued to look at the table where he had begun to mime out place settings. Patrick had heard the stutter and the unnatural tone of his voice but he couldn’t seem to change it. His stomach began churning with full nerves, back to the level it had been when Patrick had been sitting in this booth alone, wondering why he was such an idiot to wear a sports coat while the few other patrons continued on around him.

“Oh.” Stevie’s voice was almost quiet and Patrick knew instantly that she _knew_. His stomach clenched and Patrick promised himself he would not throw up at this table.

“Did I not tell you?” David asked, cringing as he spaced each word out carefully.

 _So was it **definitely** didn’t want to be on a date?_ That’s what it felt like to Patrick. David would have said something about Stevie joining earlier if he’d thought it wasn’t a date, right?

Patrick felt his hand lift of his own accord as he tried to pull the date out of the death spiral it seemed to be in. He forced a smile which felt brittle and ready to crack. Adrenaline was kicking in and was telling Patrick to leave right now. The noise of the rest of the café was too loud in his ears and mingled with the blood rushing in his head to make everything unbearable. “But, you know, hey, the more the merrier. I’m going to just hit the restroom real quick.” Patrick levered himself out of the booth as he continued talking trying to get his tone back to normal. “And then I’ll- come back.”

_Because what else was he going to do?_

Patrick jammed his hands deep into his pockets so he could feel the seams at the bottom and walked quickly to the back of the restaurant. He had wanted to sound casual and Patrick was fairly certain he had failed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Stevie slide into the booth as he turned the corner to the bathroom. Patrick tried not to think of David’s best friend-slash-ex joining them on their date, and stared intently at the door with haphazardly placed hardware-store stickers spelling out restroom, silver on black, and peeling at the corners. The letters got larger as Patrick walked steadily along the linoleum floor. He took a deep breath in and turned the handle on the door and let himself in.

Patrick pivoted as he shut the door, slid the bolt lock closed and flipped it. His hand remained on it, frozen, trying to figure out what to do. He was in the bathroom now, instead of at the table with David. He had walked away from the man that Patrick had been trying to get closer to since he had listened to the compilation of voicemails on repeat.

_Fuck._

He covered his face before turning around and leaning back against the door heavily. It sagged with him, as hollow as he felt. Patrick had thought things were going well. By the signs of most dates, they’d engaged in flirty banter and exchanged what Patrick had considered to be charged looks. He should have known that he wasn’t really David Rose’s type. David was a cosmopolitan dreamer who thought on grandiose scales and focused in on the most minute details. Patrick was confident that David had dated people who had a lot more experience and money and had traveled well beyond Canada’s borders.

Patrick didn’t want to be any of those other people. He just wanted David to want to be with the kind of person that Patrick was. The need and the fear mingled together to make his skin feel too tight and he wanted to itch right out of his own body. Dating women had been so much easier, the moves familiar and known, but he hadn’t wanted any of them the way he wanted David.

Patrick let his hands trail off his face and looked around the dingy bathroom. There was an ancient toilet, the tiny kind with a rounded bowl that looked like it was for very small people and a wooden seat. Unappealing brown stains streaked down the interior of the bowl. Next to the toilet was a rusty, lidded trash can and a toilet paper dispenser that was falling off the wall. It wasn’t a very hopeful space to be in. If the space was a metaphor for his date plans, it was likely apt. Patrick closed his eyes again and tried to figure out what he was going to do now.

Ever since he had walked in to the storefront to drop off the business license for Rose Apothecary, Patrick had known something was brewing between himself and David. Alexis Rose, perhaps one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in real life, had flirted with him rather aggressively. All Patrick had wanted was to be next to David. When David had emerged from the back room to find Patrick held captive by a death scarf, a deep bolt of attraction and desire had flooded Patrick.

Weeks later, he hadn’t done much about it. There had been opportunities, but none of them had felt just right. Most of the time, Patrick fell back on the fact that he had invested time and money into the business and going for anything more was a risk he couldn’t quite calculate. Math had always been a safe space, and he could take most business proposals and turn the words into actual mathematical concepts to make risk analysis decisions. Feelings, however, couldn’t quite be quantified like that and Patrick had stepped back from the precipice of action so many times.

This morning, when David had been visibly upset that his family had forgotten his birthday, the opportunity had been clear. Patrick had walked right into it, as he liked to do when doors opened for him. He had asked about the café, made some jokes and gotten a laugh out of David and had settled on 8:00 PM, a universally acknowledged date time. David had agreed to go on a date with him, and Patrick had been so flustered he had soaked the produce. The ten minutes that followed had been filled with fantasies about the date as he carefully wiped down each vegetable to prevent rot from setting in.

Patrick had somehow gotten through the day in a fog only to rush home, shower, change and frame the receipt gift he had decided on while he had restocked shelves. Patrick had thought long and hard about the stupid frame because David thought he had picked out the frame on his business license and had criticized it. Picking the perfect one from David’s inventory of frames had been harder than Patrick wanted to admit, as had been cashing himself out and slipping the money into the till without David noticing.

Now, instead of moving forward with the date with this incredible man, who had big ideas and a level of creative vision that made Patrick feel like he was doing something exciting with his business degree, Patrick was hiding while David sat at the table with Stevie. Worse, David had invited Stevie along in their date. It wasn’t like he could just leave. The window in this bathroom was too small to sneak out of, for one. Second, the way out walked right past the booth and he had said he was coming back. Besides, there was a gift waiting for David at the table and, despite the disaster that this all felt like, Patrick still wanted to give it to him. Just, hopefully he could hide it until Stevie left or went to the bathroom. It would seem stupid to other people.

Patrick scrubbed his hands over his face a second time. There was no resistance, he had shaved carefully in preparation for this date, and even if everything was falling apart he wasn’t sorry he had tried. If David wanted to be here on a date with him, Patrick would have regretted not shaving. Even if he wanted to go home, which a large part of him did, that would send a clear message that Patrick was embarrassed by the misunderstanding over this being a date. He had to go to work with David tomorrow and the next day and the day following. Patrick owed it to both of them to make sure things were not horrifyingly awkward at work from here on out. He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage it but damn it, he was going to try.

Patrick forced himself to push away from the door and moved over to the tiny sink with a faucet each for hot and cold water. His hands framed the porcelain sink as he stared at himself in the spotted mirror that hung above it. He had what he would consider a rather ordinary face, a pale face with hair and eyes a basic crayon box brown. Patrick had always tried to make up for the fact that he was a rather average-looking person by trying to be exceptional in other ways.

This isn’t the time to feel down on yourself, Brewer, Patrick insisted to himself. That would be saved for tonight when he went home to Ray’s house alone and trudged up the stairs and figured out what he was going to do with his feelings for his business partner. Right now, no matter what happened when he went back out there, Patrick just wanted David to enjoy his birthday. If that meant sharing David with Stevie, well, at least Patrick was up there with David’s best friend. Patrick could put on a smile and muster through. He already had a talent for that.

The lightbulb overhead flickered slightly. Patrick took a deep breath and let it out before turning on the hot water faucet. Industrial pink soap came from the dispenser and Patrick found he missed the soft and fragrant soaps of the shop. Once he had washed and dried his hands, Patrick grabbed a fresh towel to open the door, hearing David’s voice in his head about the amount of germs in a public restroom. The ritual of cleaning was calming, brought him back to himself, rather than trapped in his head.

By the time Patrick walked back to the booth, he had most of his feelings and hope packed inside the tiny box he reserved for them and had settled into friendship mode. Heading back to the table, Patrick fixed what was, he hoped, a vaguely natural smile.

Sitting on the table between Stevie and David, his present stood out firmly, blue on blue.

_Fuck._

Patrick fumbled through asking about the gift and David stumbled through the explanation of the idea that they didn’t want to spill anything on it so they put it in the middle of the table. It makes no sense and he points it out.

“Open it, David!”

Patrick moved to take the gift bag from the table trying to explain that it could and should wait while Stevie chanted “open it!” complete with clapping beside him. David pinched the present on the other side and pulled gently, while pretending he was exerting great effort and Patrick could do nothing else but let go.

“This is the first gift I haven’t bought myself in a long time,” David told Patrick as he carefully arranged the gift bag in front of him. “So thank you.”

Somehow, Patrick felt better about deciding to get David a gift and worse because he had gotten David something small and inexpensive in the long run, but meaningful. It felt like too much and not enough and Patrick didn’t want an audience for this.

“You’re going to be so underwhelmed when you open it,” he began, hoping that if he hedged his bets here that maybe he wouldn’t ruin their friendship with this gift. “Trust me.”

He glanced at Stevie’s grinning face and he can’t quite bring himself to be mad at her.

“It’s not...” and then David pulled it from the package, sturdy black frame in hand and Patrick’s stomach clenched. “See, it’s nothing.”

But David just remained still, staring at the frame and it’s contents, lips pursed. Patrick wanted to crawl out of his skin and out of the booth and maybe fully out of Schitt’s Creek. Even shifting in his own embarrassment, Patrick couldn’t keep his eyes from returning to David who hadn’t really moved.

“What is it?”

Stevie’s voice broke the tense moment and when David didn’t answer Patrick began explaining the gift to her. Mid-explanation, David looked up at him in quiet contemplation. Usually, David’s face was expressive and slightly wild, transforming with every word and emotion. Now, his face was calm and his gaze steady and Patrick felt like David was looking right inside of him - could see him deep into his soul.

He glanced to Stevie because David overwhelmed him and he couldn’t place David’s feelings, but in the end there was nowhere to look but back at David. Patrick waited, watching David for any response, hope and despair both warring within him.

“Um, this is not nothing,” David told him softly, his face still muted. There was something in his eyes though that Patrick couldn’t quite identify. Patrick managed a small smile for David through all the nerves.

“So, thank you.”

David’s eyes went back to the receipt in the frame and Patrick felt the little flicker of hope flare back up and fill his chest. David wouldn’t stare at the frame with that contemplative look on his face.

“I overheard someone wanted mozzarella sticks for their birthday,” Twyla interrupted, sweet smile and the saddest plate of mozzarella sticks Patrick had ever seen. David’s face transformed from his soft look to a cringe before Twyla even said, “I am pretty sure I scraped all the freezer burn off of them.”

She set the platter down in the middle of the table and all they could do was stare at them. They looked like someone had pressed on them, causing the cheese to seep out and them to look vaguely like a cartoon rendering of mozzarella sticks.

With the silence pressing on him, Patrick managed to say, “Wow, look at those.”

Unsurprisingly, no one responded to his underwhelming statement. Twyla began asking if they needed anything and Patrick couldn’t help but regret that he had invited David here for their first date if this was what came out of the kitchen.

Movement to his side, had Patrick swiveling to look at Stevie. She was tossing her bag back over her shoulder. “You know what, I have to go, too. I totally forgot.”

He moved out of the booth as Stevie slid towards the exit, picking up two of the flattened supposedly-edible sticks to go. Patrick wasn’t entirely sure what had changed her mind about leaving, aside from the gift. He had really shown his whole hand in regards to David.

Patrick resettled himself in the booth, trying to get himself comfortable. Still, he couldn’t help fidgeting, fixing his jacket, sighing, rocking forward and back, a small smile fluttering around his mouth all the whole. The whole night was seemingly turning around. He folded his hands together and set them on the table as he tried to rein his feelings back in.

David was still holding the frame in his hands when Patrick finally shot him another look, forcing himself to stay still.

David pursed his lips and patted a hand over the frame, just as he had when he had first commented on the gift. “Uh, this is a very solid frame.”

A high compliment indeed. Patrick smiled, relieved that his search through the inventory had led to the correct decision. “Thank you, I’m learning.”

Patrick watched as David gave a sigh and put the framed receipt off to the side, carefully though, like it was important.

“Well, shall we?” Patrick asked doubtfully we be looked down at the

“Mmm. Mmhmm.”

Patrick picked up a cheese stick and was glad it didn’t completely flop over. David picked up one of his own. They met in the middle, touching cheese sticks, nodding their heads in silent cheers. Patrick’s smile held until he took a bite.

David mouthed _Oh My God_ , at Patrick. Patrick worked hard to chew what he was pretty certain was breadcrumb-coated rubber.

“Uhh, well,” Patrick said after he swallowed his now very cold, gummy mozzarella stick bite. He really hoped this item they hadn’t actually ordered wasn’t on the bill and had just come from the bottom of Twyla’s kind heart.

David picked up his napkin and Patrick was fairly certain that he spit his bite out. It was done so demurely, though, that Patrick wouldn’t bring attention to it. David stared at the plate, wide-eyed, and lifted a hand to point at the offensive with a cringe. “That is not-that is not good. They taste like freezer and are just as cold. They have only been out here for two minutes.”

“They’re terrible. I don’t—“ Patrick frowned deeply at the plate. “We shouldn’t eat those.”

Patrick hastily shook out his own napkin to cover the offending fried lumps. He shoved the plate off to the side as he apologized. “I am sorry. I should have found a restaurant that was billed as more than mediocre.”

“No,” David said, his hand snaking out to cover Patrick’s. His hand was warm and Patrick felt a jolt of electricity run up his arm and into his heart.

“No. This—“ David let out a shuddering breath and his hand tightened over Patrick’s. “This is good. There are better things on this menu. I ate here exclusively the first year we lived here, because Twyla was kind enough to give my dad a tab.”

Patrick wanted to give David a full grin but what came out again was another small, shy one. “Well, I will have to lean on your expertise.”

A blush rose on David’s cheeks and Patrick’s date glanced back down at the table for a minute. When he looked back, Patrick squirmed slightly at the heat in David’s eyes. “Okay. Well, this time of night I would avoid all salads, however, if you look on page four of your menu-“ David began, his hand receding back across the table to pick up his own menu and begin flipping.

“Are they numbered? How do I know which page is four?”

The quip got him an amused expression from David, who bent his menu down just enough to show his full face. “It says _Meats_ at the top. Pay attention.”

Patrick picked up his own menu and turned to the page that had _Meats_ scrawled across the top as David began walking him through the different pitfalls on the menu as well as potential safe ground. It was enough just to listen to him discuss the menu. Patrick couldn’t really hold on to the thread of the conversation enough to know what to order. Every now and then David would look up with him from the menu and his face would fade back to the small, lopsided pursed lips from the receipt and Patrick would lose the ability to breathe for a full minute.

The night continued in the same general vein. Patrick and David mocked the entirety of the menu, the tropical decor this far north, and even the choices of other patrons for dinner. They discussed their families and birthdays and ideas for the store. At one point, David’s hand slid across the table again, and rested on the back of Patrick’s.

 _Oh,_ Patrick realized with a small stutter, this date was his best one ever, despite the third wheel and the awful free appetizer. He just needed to figure out how to read the situation enough to end the night with a kiss.


End file.
